


The Night Before

by lovepollution



Category: The Split (TV 2018)
Genre: 1990s, Backstory, Broken Promises, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Canon Universe, Cheating, Confessions, Developing Relationship, F/M, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Forbidden Love, Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Headcanon, Implied/Referenced Sex, In Character, Late Night Conversations, Late at Night, Little Sisters, London, Love Triangles, Missing Scene, Nervousness, One Shot, Partner Betrayal, Past, Past Relationship(s), Pillow Talk, Pre-Season/Series 01, References to Canon, Reflection, Relationship(s), Resolved Sexual Tension, Self-Reflection, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Young
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovepollution/pseuds/lovepollution
Summary: The night before Hannah's wedding to Nathan, Christie makes his feelings known.
Relationships: Hannah Stern/Christie Carmichael
Kudos: 10





	The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> This needed to be written, so I wrote it.

“And after all…” three voices screamed in decidedly off key unison, “you’re my wonderwall!” Rose giggled as Christie twirled her around, while Hannah stood back smiling.

“Right, I’m calling it a night.” Ruth stood from the garden chair she’d been sitting in. “And, I think it’s time for you to go to bed too young lady,” Ruth said with a scowl to Rose.

“Five more minutes!” pleaded the pouting 11-year-old.

Ruth sighed. “Fine, but you,” she directed her words to Hannah and Christie, the only other two people left standing at the party, “need to make sure she gets to bed. You should go soon yourself too,” she told Hannah, “big day tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I know,” Hannah rolled her eyes. “I’ll make sure Rose goes to bed. I’ll be up soon.”

“Goodnight.” Ruth gave Hannah a quick kiss on the head. “Enjoy your last night as a single woman,” she shouted over her shoulder as she walked back into the house, making Hannah grimace while Christie watched on quietly from the other side of the garden.

“I guess I should get going, let you get to bed,” Christie said, his tone defeated, once Ruth had made her way back into the house.

Hannah visibly nodded, but audibly disagreed. “You can stay...a bit longer.” It was a statement but came out more like a question.

“OK, a bit longer,” Christie nodded with a smile, sitting down on the garden bench besides her.

It was oddly quiet now the other party-goers had left. Music was playing now quietly in the background, but the only other noise was that of the barely audible roar of the odd engine passing by on the late summer evening.

“Excited for tomorrow?” Christie asked, breaking the slightly awkward silence between them.

Hannah shrugged, a tight smile. “Yeah.”

Christie frowned in concern. “You seem...” he searched for the right word, “sad.”

Hannah laughed. “No,” she said with little conviction, shaking her head and avoiding his intense gaze. Glancing up, she spied Rose across the garden, sound asleep. “Looks like mum was right about Rose and bed.”

Christie took a moment to respond, not really wanting to give Hannah an excuse to back away from talk of the big day ahead, but he reluctantly let it go. “Yeah, do you want me to carry her up?”

“Could you?”

“Sure,” he replied, crossing the garden to scoop up Rose, who barely moved as he effortlessly placed her in his arms.

“I’ll show you where her room is,” Hannah said, awkwardly squeezing past Christie with Rose in his arms.

They moved through the house quietly, taking the stairs slowly so as not to wake a still sleeping Rose.

“Here.” Hannah motioned towards Rose’s bed, holding the door open. Christie lay her gently on her bed. Hannah pulled a blanket over her sister, before she shut Rose’s door softly, leaving herself and Christie face-to-face on the landing.

“So…” he said, shifting awkwardly from foot-to-foot with his hands in his pockets. “I should really head home, let you get your beauty sleep.” His left hand came up to rub at the back of his neck.

Hannah swallowed. “Stay a while longer.” Christie looked at her, shocked she had made so definite a statement. He opened his mouth to speak but didn’t get the words out before she jumped in. “I can’t finish that bottle of wine by myself,” she added to quell her embarrassment over her plea for him to stay.

“OK,” he eventually agreed.

Two thirds of a bottle of white wine later, they sat side by side on the garden bench.

“I can’t believe Rose slept through me carrying her upstairs,” he said, shaking his head and taking another sip of his drink.

“Between you and me,” Hannah whispered, “she kept asking to try my wine earlier, and I _might_ have given her a sip... I think it went to her head.”

Christie chuckled and shook his head. It was quiet again, neither of them too sure what to say. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hannah was shivering from the chill in the air..

“Here,” he said, removing his leather jacket and placing it over her shoulders.

“You don’t need to…” she tried to protest, before realising that she really was cold and the jacket made her feel much better. “Thanks.”

They were silent for a while, steadily downing their glasses of wine as music continued to hum away from the boombox sitting on the table close by.

Hannah found herself reflecting on the evening. Her mother had thrown her a surprise party-cum-hen night. The gathering consisted of her, her mother and sisters, along with a select few friends from uni, including Christie.

She’d been shocked to see him there - the party was largely female, although there were a couple of her male friends - but more than that, she was thrown off guard by his presence. She was getting married the next day, and the last thing she wanted to be confronted by was the man she’d secretly fantasized over for the past five years. But the loud music and flowing alcohol had meant her worries had quickly vanished, and she found herself enjoying Christie’s presence more and more.

Over the past year, she hadn’t seen him quite as often as she used to - she and Nathan had their own flat now, and work and their relationship were absorbing more and more of her time - and she forgot how interesting and charming he could be, not to mention funny; she’d laughed more tonight than she remembered doing in years.

Christie was easy to be around. Hannah had always had an easy rapport with him, despite any underlying feelings she may have had. He seemed to know what she was feeling and thinking, much more than Nathan did she was reluctant to admit. But still, Nathan was safe and reliable.

Hannah was only Nathan’s second girlfriend, and she had to admit she found it charming; especially compared to Christie and his endless parade of women - women that she inevitably had to mop up the tears of after he would get her to do his dirty work and give them the “it’s not you, it’s me” speech.

“God, do you remember this song?” Christie broke her thoughts, referring to the New Order song now playing quietly in the background. “That first night…”

“...we all went out drinking together, the DJ played this and I insisted we all get up and dance.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Nathan’s dancing....” 

“I’m not sure you could even call that dancing,” he said, with a raised brow and a solemn expression, although he was unable to keep a straight face and laughed seconds after he spoke.

“I can’t believe you remembered that!” Hannah said, wide-eyed.

Christie shrugged. “It was a good night. We had some good times.”

“Yeah, we did.”

“You know,” he began, “the first time I saw you, I couldn’t believe Nathan got so lucky.”

Hannah’s cheeks turned crimson. “I…” She didn’t know what to say, so she deflected with a dig at Christie. “I don’t compare to those tall blonde model types you’re always seeing.”

“No,” he looked her in the eye, his words weighted with deeper meaning, “you don’t.”

Hannah looked away, nervously pushing her hair behind her ears. “I erm…” she tripped over her words. “Nathan will have missed you tonight. I think he said he was going for drinks.”

“I don’t think he’ll have missed me,” Christie scoffed, knowing too well that Nathan regarded him with a level of contempt. “He was probably back home and in bed by nine anyway.”

She tried not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it; Christie was spot on. “You’re probably right.”

“I can’t believe you’re getting married tomorrow,” he said, after a lull in their conversation, “it seems so...grown up.”

“Yeah, I...can’t quite believe it either.”

“So...are you excited, for tomorrow?” he repeated his earlier question. “Really?”

Hannah was silent for a moment. “I…” she stuttered. “Nathan is a good person.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

She bit her lip. “I’m...nervous...apprehensive, but that’s normal.” Christie’s silence spoke volumes, making her defensive. “It might not be all...fireworks and passion with Nathan, but I love him.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “I don’t want you to make a mistake. You’re only 24, marriage is so...final.”

Hannah swallowed and looked down, but she didn’t reply, instead changing the subject. “So...will you be bringing, what’s her name...Sabrina, tomorrow?”

“Yeah, erm,” he scratched at his jaw. “That...didn’t really work out.”

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you stick with one longer than a month? The amount of girlfriends you’ve had since I’ve known you…”

“I guess I haven’t found the right one yet.” He paused, swallowing deliberately. “Or maybe I have, but she’s already taken.”

Hannah’s mouth went dry as his gaze fixed on her intently. “Christie…” she whispered, finally.

She should turn away, get up and stop this right now, she knew, but his pull was so strong that she couldn’t force herself out of his orbit. Their faces were inches apart and she could feel the warmth of this breath tickling her nose. Her stomach flipped as the gap was closed and his mouth covered hers.

It was just the solid press of lips at first. Christie pulled back after the initial contact, assessing to make sure he hadn’t completely misread her: Hannah’s mouth then pressing deliberately against his told him he hadn’t.

Hannah’s lips parted when she felt his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. Much to her shame, she had daydreamed what kissing Christie might be like - she’d even woken herself dreaming of it, and then felt the sting of disappointment that Nathan was the one sleeping next to her - and the real thing was every bit as spine tingling.

His jacket fell from her shoulders as his hand snuck underneath it, sending the spaghetti strap of her dress sliding down. The feel of his fingers on her bare skin was tantalising, and she wanted his hands everywhere immediately.

Much to Christie’s confusion, Hannah pulled away and stood up.

“What…?” he asked, puzzled until she held out her hand for him to take.

Leading him through the house, she turned and signalled with her finger to her lips before they climbed the stairs, and they proceeded to creep carefully past the bedrooms of her sleeping family. Once they were inside her room, Hannah turned to close her door softly, and had barely had time to take a breath when she turned to face Christie and he was kissing her again.

They fell onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and hands.

“We should stop…” Hannah said, as he kissed down her neck.

“Do you really want to?” Christie asked, stopping his actions and looking her dead in the eye.

“No,” she replied truthfully, and against her better judgement.

Christie smiled a mile wide, before going in for another kiss.

Clothes were quickly removed and skin touched skin. Gasps and moans were muted as much as could be, lest they alert Hannah’s family to what was going on.

“Hey,” she said, laying on her side as he lay on his, face to face. She felt tired but also buzzing, both with nervous emery and the thrill of what they’d done.

“Hey,” he smiled, reaching out and brushing the hair from her face. “I can’t believe I’m actually here with you, like this.”

“I can’t either,” she spoke quietly, and closed her eyes when Christie’s fingers tenderly brushed her cheek.

“You’re pretty special, Hannah Defoe,” Christie whispered, his breath tickling her eyelids as she opened her eyes. They kissed slowly and lovingly, before shifting into a more comfortable position. Hannah’s head rested on his chest while his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and his hand lazily stroked the soft skin on her arm.

“Is that…?” Christie broke the silence, noticing the large garment bag hanging on the wardrobe. Hannah nodded. “I bet you look beautiful in it.”

She blushed. “It’s not exactly the dress I wanted, but it’s nice.”

Christie resisted the urge to make a wisecrack about the fact that she could be describing Nathan.

Glancing at the clock, Hannah saw the flashing red numbers signal it was almost half past four. “I’m supposed to get up in three hours,” she told Christie.

“I don’t think you should marry Nathan.” His words were raw and unvarnished to get the importance of his point across. He took a breath before continuing. “I don’t want you to marry Nathan.”

“I…” she started. “I don’t…” Her eyes darted as she tried hard to find the words, but her head was a whirl of emotions. Struck with an idea, Christie moved into a more upright position and then held Hannah’s face close to his.

“Come away with me.” He got his words out quickly, as soon as the idea came into his head, giving him no time to second guess his instincts.

Hannah was open mouthed for a second. “That’s...crazy. It’s...it’s insane.”

“It’s not,” he countered. “We can go to Amsterdam, Paris, New York...anywhere you want.”

“But Nathan, my family…” She laughed at the absurdness that they were having this conversation, now. “I’m meant to be getting married in six hours.”

“Tell them, tell Nathan, that you need time...that you’re not ready. Leave a note,” he said, rambling at a near frantic pace, “say you...needed to get away. When everyone’s had time to cool down, we can come back, we can sort things out properly.”

“I don’t know…”

“Hannah, please.” He sighed. “I don’t…” He froze briefly, not really wanting to say the next part. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, you and me, but I can’t watch you make a mistake you’ll regret for the rest of your life. Just say yes.”

She paused before diving off the deep end. “Yes.”

“Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yes,” she repeated, this time her happiness and relief breaking through in the form of a smile.

He beamed before kissing her passionately, and they got carried away until thoughts of the time constraints they were under came to Hannah’s mind.

“You should go, while everyone is still asleep,” she said, breaking their physical contact. Christie’s expression was suddenly fearful and crestfallen. “I need to get some things together, to pack, and try and think of what to tell everyone.”

He nodded, more encouraged and less afraid now. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” He thought for a second. “I’ll go back to my flat and pack a bag. Meet you there at nine?”

“Nine is good,” she agreed.

He got up and threw on his clothes. He leant across the bed to give Hannah one final lingering kiss, and then he was gone, closing the door quietly behind him.

Hannah lay, just staring at the ceiling, in a daze over the sudden dramatic turn of events. The minutes ticked by, and the longer she lay there, the more the doubts started to creep in and she began second guessing her decision.

Christie wanted her now, sure, but would he still want her once the novelty wore off? Would he tire of her like he did with his other girlfriends? How long would she be interesting to him now their sexual tension was fully resolved and the illicit thrill of excitement was no longer there?

Not getting married for another man wasn’t right either. If they were in a relationship, there would always be this huge pressure that it needed to work because of how it started. Christie may have said they didn’t have to mean anything - which might be true enough from his side - but the problem was, Hannah desperately wanted them to mean something, and she knew it was a terrible way to start their romantic relationship.

Then there was her mother: Ruth loved Nathan. But of course, Nathan was perfect take-home-to-your-parents material, with his smart shirt and trousers and first class honours degree. Ruth had never been so fond of Christie, with his shoulder length hair and at times cavalier bad boy attitude, going as far as to ask Hannah once why she wasted her time around someone so “directionless”. But Hannah could see the real Christie, the man he was becoming, trying to find his way in the world but never really getting what he wanted. And after the night’s events, she was beginning to wonder if and how she could fit into his future.

She must have nodded off briefly at some point - even if all she remembered of the night was lying awake and alternating between staring at the ceiling and tossing and turning - because she woke with a jolt to the surprisingly loud sound of her mother’s alarm clock.

Then the murmuring began, the hustle and bustle of her family waking up and starting to prepare for the day ahead - her wedding day.

As she lay, once again looking at the ceiling above with the crack that ran across it so well memorised, she willed herself to get up. She should get up now and tell them, that way there would be time to let everyone know the wedding was cancelled and things would be easier, cleaner. But instead she remained still, paralized by the fear her choice was the wrong one, but most of all by the pain she knew she would cause by shattering her family’s dream of the perfect day, and of their vision of she and Nathan as the golden couple.

Hannah had always been a cynic when it came to love and relationships, not surprisingly after the havoc she’d seen her father wreak not only with her mother’s heart, but of her and her sisters’ too. Although Ruth had never said it, Hannah always felt that by picking someone so virtuous, she had helped to restore her mother’s faith that there were good men out there. That was an illusion she didn’t know she could bear to shatter just because she had these feelings for Christie. And when the passion burned out with Christie, where would she be left? Alone and watching him with yet another leggy blonde in her place. Nathan was a good man. He was kind and loving and...sensible, which wasn’t always a negative.

“Time to get up, Mrs. Stern,” Ruth said, buoyant with excitement, as she opened Hannah’s bedroom door, tray with coffee and toast in hand. Hannah pulled herself up to a sitting position in bed and smiled weakly. “Oh you look awful!” Ruth exclaimed.

Hannah rolled her eyes. “Wow, thanks mum.”

Ignoring the comment, Ruth continued. “Were you up late? What time did Christie leave?” She didn’t give Hannah any time to answer. “Well, I suppose some makeup will cover those dark circles.” She brushed the hair off Hannah’s face. “I’ve got some eye cream that will do miracles for that puffiness.” Before Hannah had a chance to say a thing, Ruth was gone in search of the elusive product.

The noises of the house grew louder. Hannah could now hear that Rose was also awake, chatting animatedly as cartoons played on the TV.

Minutes later, Nina appeared carrying two dresses. Already showered, she wore a white towelling robe and a towel wrapped around her hair.

“I know I said I was going to wear this one,” she held a red tea length dress aloft. “But now I’m wondering if I should go with this instead,” she now held an electric blue dress with a shorter skirt in the air. “What do you think?”

“I think they both look great,” Hannah answered, feigning enthusiasm as best she could with her mind miles away.

“You know, I think I’ll just stick with this one,” she held the red dress up again. “My shoes and bag are going to look better with it.” She turned to leave the room.

“Nina, tell Hannah she needs to get up and get ready soon!” Ruth’s voice shouted up the stairs.

Nina huffed. “Why don’t you just tell her yourself?” she shouted down exasperated, to no response. “Mum says you need to get ready,” she finally told Hannah as she left the room, with a frustrated teenage eye roll thrown in for good measure.

After a few seconds of contemplation, Hannah took a deep breath, turned sideways and kicked off the covers. And then, without much more thought, she did what she was supposed to do: she got up, she got dressed, and then later, she got married.

At the same time, miles away at his flat, Christie sat and waited. He waited when the clock showed ten and she wasn’t there. He was still waiting, bags packed by his feet, when it began to turn dusk. By the time it was dark, he could no longer kid himself, so he unpacked slowly and methodically, while he sipped on a beer in an attempt to quell the crushing ache that was forcing its way to the surface.

While he gave up waiting for Hannah that evening, he would come to realise, some 20 years later, that he never really gave up on her. But then in truth, no matter the obstacles between them, he never could.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my idea of how things might've happened that evening. I'm still formulating a multi-chapter post-s2 fix it style fic for these two, so if I can pull all my ideas together in the right way, that'll happen at some point.
> 
> (FYI, as far as dates go with this fic, s1 took place in 2018 and s2 was three months after that - so I'd say the same year - thus this is set in 1998. As regards to ages, I went with 24 for Hannah - even though the BBC website puts her at 42 in s1 - because in s2 Christie says it's 25 years since they met, which was at 19. Nina was mentioned to be 35 in s2, so she's 15 here. I don't remember Rose's exact age coming up - if I'm wrong, do correct me and I'll update this accordingly - but we know she's the youngest, so I put her as 4 years younger than Nina.)


End file.
